Slicing tomatoes is one of the earliest differences I noticed between my mother and myself, a skill of precision not immediately passed down from her to me, nor from her own mother to herself. Believe me, I’ve tried, but the maniacal speed and precision of slicing tomatoes is something, I’m convinced, only belongs to my mother. I realize there are things, like slicing tomatoes, we simply learn on our own, originating from some inexplicable place within ourselves. These pieces stem from that inexplicable place, maybe unearthing itself from somewhere deep in our DNA, from an ancestor who was a storyteller, an ancestor who yearned to be a storyteller, an ancestor who told stories through different mediums, outside of the written word, like in the secret code of how she sliced tomatoes.
Slicing Tomatoes features poems and prose (by yours truly), new and reprinted with permission from previous publications, paired with beautiful art from Filipina/Filipina-American artists as well as photography from me. I hope you enjoy this site, and be inspired to slice your own tomatoes in that cool, delectable, poetic way.